


Theme and Variations

by VivWiley



Category: Firefly, Serenity (2005)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivWiley/pseuds/VivWiley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's always the metaphors that get you in trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Theme and Variations

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a long-ago challenge and the prompts were _music as a metaphor_ and _pictures_.
> 
>  
> 
> Includes spoilers for the movie Serenity (BDM) and other eps including Out of Gas, and references to events in Shindig. This is unbeta-ed, so there's no one to blame but me.
> 
>  
> 
> As always - no copyright infringement intended and no profit will be made.

Companions are versed in a wide array of disciplines, skills, and intellectual fields. They must be comfortable speaking on topics from art to music to local politics with equal charm, knowledge and ease. Because so many of their clients have eclectic tastes, Companions must study ancient and modern texts, styles and music, as well as contemporary ones. 

The music of Earth-that-was had always been one of Inara's favorite subjects. She recalled the tale of Nandi slaying the dulcimer, and while it had brought a smile to her lips, knowing how it reflected Nandi so very well, she had never really understood that particular impulse. Losing herself in musical practice had been one of the few ways Inara had been able to escape the strictures of the training house without ever leaving its walls.

The structure of ancient musical pieces called fugues had long fascinated her. The introduction of a theme by a single voice or instrument, picked up and carried forward by additional voices, changed through variations, but always still recognizable, until at the end a conclusion is reached - the themes brought back together in inevitable and sweet harmony.

She had long recognized that her conversations with Mal were patterns of theme and variation - usually in minor keys, underlying dissonance always ready to overwhelm the melody. There were moments when it felt like they were at transition points. Where the variations were moving toward some conclusion. Lately, though, she found herself wondering just what that conclusion might be. 

**_Introduction - Allegro_**  
Sometime between Shindig and Our Mrs. Reynolds

It's always the metaphors that get you in trouble, she reflected, as she watched Mal walk away. She shook her head, almost laughing for a moment, wondering if Mal was really walking or stomping. She thought he'd probably call it stalking, but at the moment she was far more inclined to assign "stomping" - with all its childish undercurrents - to his exit.

One more exit, after one more argument, after one more...

She sighed and turned back to her shuttle. 

The music that she'd put on earlier that had seemed soothing now seemed pointless and irritating. She turned off the system and threw herself, with an uncharacteristic lack of grace, onto her settee. That hoon don! 

The same argument every time, except that lately she felt like there was something else underlying the old familiar tensions.

"I need..."

"To do your job." The sneer in his voice when he said 'job' a papercut - small, barely noticeable at the time, but something that stung for hours after. "You've explained to me before how important it is that we visit the right kind of planet." 

They were walking along the catwalk toward the shuttles, and she heard the tap-tap-ring of their footsteps setting up a martial cadence. She didn't want to go to war with him again.

"Look, Mal..." For a moment she hated herself for the placating tone she heard creeping into her voice. She straightened her posture and her tone. "I am not making an unreasonable request. I need to work in order to insure an income. You want your rent for the shuttle next month, I'm guessing? Can't we please put down - just for a day or two - on a planet where I have clients? Or if that's too much to ask, you could drop me at the nearest hub. I could shuttle down to the local transport center and book passages to the planets within that system. You could come back for me in a couple months, or whenever your latest petty thievery is concluded." She could do icy as well as any. Companion voice training was very comprehensive. It also allowed her to cover the faint tremor in her voice at the thought of leaving hi- Serenity for that long.

He stopped at that; rhythm broken. Her momentum carried her two steps forward before she realized he'd halted, so she had to turn to face him again. His expression tight and distant.

"Anxious to ditch our disreputable company for a while? Or maybe for good?" There wasn't enough light to read his eyes across the small distance separating them.

Her heart stuttered. "No!" Fast, hard denial. "I'm trying to offer you options. I don't want to cramp your style or opportunities."

His expression eased a fraction. 

"You're not...that is, I'll see what I can do about plotting a course that includes some of your higher class planets. We can't go near the Core right now...but, I'm sure there will be somewhere you can do your w..."

She stepped forward to touch his arm; to cut him off. "Don't say it. We've had this discussion about how you refer to my work."

The muscles in his arm twitched. "Gorram it! I wasn't gonna...You...!" Apparently abandoning any attempt at finishing his thoughts, he turned again and stomped back down the catwalk. 

Theme and variations, she thought to herself. The same dissonance over and over. It was time to find a new metaphor for each other. The trouble was, she wasn't sure where to find sweeter music. And she wasn't at all sure it would suit either of them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

**_Andante_**  
Shortly after Out of Gas

The man did seem to attract trouble. She had begun to lose track of the number of wounds he'd sustained in the fairly short time she'd known him. While it might be chalked up to his lifestyle and chosen profession, she would look at Zoe after one of their jobs and then look at Mal and be forced to conclude that he was either far too apt at drawing the wrong kinds of attention, or that he was one of those masculine idiots who thought scars made them more interesting.

This time, though, it felt like something else. 

Kayee estimated that life support had been back up and running for about 2 hours before they all got back on the ship, and it was another hour before Simon had finished fishing the bullet out of Mal's gut and then patching him up again. But Serenity was bigger than she looked, and it would be another few hours before atmosphere and heat were fully restored.

Kaylee was double-checking all the engine components, Wash had taken Zoe to their quarters, Jayne was...somewhere, and the Shepherd had gone to clean the blood from the cargo deck. Simon had finished restoring order to the med lab, and then looked around apologetically. "I want to get cleaned up, and check on River. Inara, would you mind waiting with the Captain...?" 

"Of course. Take your time." There was no way she would leave him alone at this point.

She pulled her shawl around her a little more tightly, and tried to settle into the astonishingly uncomfortable chair beside the med table. 

She brushed Mal's hair back from his forehead, telling herself that it was only to make sure he wasn't cold, and had nothing to do with feeling the soft brush his hair beneath her fingers. She checked again, just to be sure.

He stirred restively, slight movement of his head, and she snatched her hand away guiltily. He settled again, breathing evening out, and she leaned back in her chair to wait.

Some time later, he opened his eyes, momentary confusion clouding his expression, but almost instantly giving way to awareness. That ever present vigilance he wore like a second skin. Checking his surroundings, he looked away from her first, and then back to her. She had the odd impression that he had known she was there, and deliberately chose to glance away from her first. Almost as though he needed a moment before looking at her.

"You're awake." She was desperately afraid that her voice was betraying her.

"Yeah - again." He shifted on the table; winced. "Ouch. Well, that didn't get magically fixed while I was out. Guess I'd better fire the doc."

"Well, look at what he was working with." There, the light detachment in her tone was back. 

"You're saying he was working with damaged goods?"

"Something like that. You have tested the limits of the good doctor's skills lately."

"Well, some of that weren't my fault."

"Hmmm….some of it. Maybe." She let him draw her into the banter.

"Well, some of it was your fault." His skin was still too white, but he seemed to be breathing easily, and he seemed to be already sinking toward sleep again.

"My fault?! You can't seriously be referencing your complete failure to control your temper on Persephone?"

"Of course it's your fault. If you hadn't been wearing that dress…" 

She felt her back stiffening. "And what was wrong with my dress?" Trying to keep her voice level, not be drawn into an argument.

"Not a gorram thing." His eyes were starting to drift closed. "That's the problem." His voice softening. "The way it opened at the back. The line of that chain 

down your skin...the way it swayed with the music..."

"Oh." She didn't have any idea what to say. Had been prepared for a very different conversation.

He was nearly asleep again. "Yeah. That dress. The way you looked...Couldn't have him..."

She tried not to breathe, waiting for his next words. Which didn't come. The gentle snore as he slept the only sound for long minutes.

When he woke the next time, he was fully the Captain again, and the next time he mentioned Persephone, there was no softness in his tone at all.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
 ** _Lento_**  
Shortly after War Stories

A rare 5-day set-down on a fairly civilized planet. She had clients booked for all four nights of their stay, but on the third day, she received a wave that her final client had been called off world for a business emergency. He was suitably abject.

"Companion Inara, my deepest apologies. I have no option but to go settle this myself."

"I understand, Sir Anspach. Supply chain disruptions are always difficult. It is no problem. Perhaps we'll be able to see each other another time."

"I hope so, dearest lady. I am bereft at the thought of losing your floral...er...fluid...er...time with you..." Dear god, who did he think he was? This petty catalyzer manufacturer with pretensions of dignity. She had, to be honest, only accepted him as a client as a favor to Roberta. It occurred to her that she'd never really been that fond of Roberta.

"As do I." One was never, however, less than gracious, unless the situation truly called for it.

"Please make use of the room at the Villa Borghese I booked for our engagement. It is already paid for, and has a wonderful array of amenities. It's truly unique in this area of the system. You would enjoy it a great deal. Wonderful food." For a brief moment she wondered if his brother-in-law ran the establishment. Then she recalled that she had heard of the Villa and it nearly lived up to his florid praise. A sudden idea seized her.

"Thank you, Sir Anspach. That would be most kind. Are you sure...?" But of course he was.

As seemed to happen all too frequently lately, she completed her call with the tingling awareness of being watched. She finished signing off, and then without turning around, "May I help you, Mal?" She really wasn't in the mood to grant him his title.

"So, your 'date' canceled on you? What a shame." Contempt and odd relief equally present just below the surface.

She held perfectly still for the count of five - for her sake, and his. There were far too many sharp items near her hands.

"Well, a day of rest is always welcome." Turning now to rise and meet him in the center of the room. "Did you have a purpose for being here, or did you just feel like violating my privacy for your general prurient amusement?"

"I resent that. My amusement is not puritanical." She managed not to roll her eyes. His hick routine was a little too obvious this afternoon. Usually his affected ignorance was more subtle. "Nah - just checking to see if you needed a lift into town. We heard there was a theater show tonight and some of us are heading in to see it. Thought we could drop you at your latest job. Guess not."

"Actually your timing is very fortuitous, Captain. I do need to go to town for something else. But first I need to find Kaylee. I have a new plan, and she is..." She let a graceful, ambiguous hand wave complete her thought. His eyebrow twitched. This was going to be fun.

"Something wrong with the shuttle?"

"No, nothing like that. I want to offer her an opportunity I think she might enjoy..." She graced him with her most enigmatic smile. Just the tiniest hint of sultriness allowed to slide in.

"Hey! Don't be getting Kaylee mixed up in none of your..."

She held an imperious hand. "Captain!" She let disdain and disappoint mix in her voice. "How could you even begin to imply that I would..."

She turned away, vaguely afraid she was overplaying it, but knowing how his back got up when he was protecting one of his crew members.

"I have the opportunity to spend the night in a lovely hotel, alone and I thought I'd take Kaylee along for some girl time. You know how she likes to dress up. I thought she'd like to spend some time with me - getting massaged, enjoying the Jacuzzi..." She turned back and looked up at him through lowered eyelashes. 

Yes, getting very close to overplaying it.

He glared at her a moment, aware, damn him, that something was off, but not quite able to pinpoint it. She could almost see the thoughts he was trying to fight down; the memories of her recent assignation with the Minister.

"Well, that's...different. Fine. " But he still wasn't sure. Such an enjoyable thing.

And she had enjoyed the time with Kaylee, who reminded her of the little sister she never had. Kaylee's sweet innocence and delight at the wonders of the Villa. 

Kaylee's sweet innocence that allowed her to ask the questions everyone else danced around.

Late that night, they lounged by the pool, watching the fireflies dancing along the water. Inara had ordered shimmer wine, and they had unhurriedly worked their way through the bottle. As the air just started to cool, and the world seemed hushed, Kaylee had turned to ask the unexpected.

"Why me, 'Nara?" 

"Hmmm, mei-mei?"

"Why'd you bring me here? Not that I don't love it, 'cause I do. It's so shiny and sparkly and pretty and refined. Just, you know, perfect...?" She trailed off, her attention caught by a Red-jeweled dragon bee flitting by. "Oh! Did you see that? Ever seen anything so pretty? Where do these things come from? How could anyone, anything think up anything so beautiful and graceful?"

She took the final sip of her wine. "Where was I? Oh yeah - why me?"

Inara let her silence answer. She thought the crickets' song probably covered the tiny hitch in her breathing.

"Why not the Cap'n?"

"What?" Gentle vagueness suffusing her tone. Maybe Kaylee would think her mind had been elsewhere. 

"Why didn't you ask the Captain? Don't you think he'd like this? It's so romantical and all..." She seemed perfectly guileless, but for a moment Inara found herself wondering if Mal had put her up to this line of questioning. She shook off the thought. This was Kaylee.

"Oh, Kaylee, I just wanted to spend some time with you. I haven't gotten to see as much of you lately."

And sweet Kaylee simply accepted her explanation, which was a true one after all. But also hid the other truth that she hadn't asked Mal because she hadn't wanted to see that look in his eyes. There were some themes she was more than tired of.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
 ** _Interlude_**  
Post Heart of Gold, pre "Serenity"

There is a musical form where what is important is not the music itself, but the emptiness between the notes. The notes not spoken or played, the silences and how they echo. It is not an intuitive music form, but when you learn to read the silences, to hear the implied music, you feel as though you have found your way through an ancient maze to the secret at the center. 

Inara sighed silently. It seemed she did that a lot these days. The Training House was designed to be peaceful. Serene. Lately though, she felt less and less serene.

At first she had enjoyed coming back to this environment. The structured, formal atmosphere broken by the occasional flashes of enthusiasm and giggles of the younger students. She remembered what it was like to be them. Nervous and proud all at the same time. Knowing you were special, but understanding that it was both a privilege and responsibility to be a Companion, even if she remained unconvinced that these girls would ever be true Companions. 

She found her teaching responsibilities soothing. She flowed naturally into the rhythms of her classes - the lilt of instruction, the counterpoint of questions. 

Then that horrifying revelation. What should have been a pleasant evening with her colleague and friend. Sheydra who had shared her own experiences of training on Sihnon. Joking about how the girls through Inara had romantic past. A joke until those words, "I'm not the one who had a torrid affair with a pirate."

She heard Sheydra's voice as though through a tunnel; couldn't find her own voice for a stuttering moment. "A who with a what?!" It sounded all wrong, but she couldn't take the time to parse her mistake. She knew she was over-reacting, and wanted to stop herself, but couldn't stop the words of denial spilling out.

Later she would reflect with some irony that she, who had just delivered a rather condescending lecture on the importance of control, had been utterly unable to control the leap of her own hopes and tumbling imagination at the words "torrid affair." But that was a closed path. A door she had shut herself. 

She tried not to think about the picture of Mal she kept guiltily locked away at the bottom of her trunk. It was an old fashioned still image. She had captures of most of the rest of the crew, taking them out periodically to hear Kaylee's laughter and see that luminous smile, or to hear Simon's diffident speech. But what she had taken with her of Mal was a single image. Mal at the console of Serenity on a rare night when he had the command alone. 

The picture was an accident - of fate or something else entirely wasn't clear to her. She'd purchased the old camera at the market on Haymeron. It had been an impulsive purchase, something to remind her of her father, of whom she remembered almost nothing except that he loved antique cameras. She'd been walking through Serenity that night, still carrying it with her, feeling the weight of it in her hand. Crossing the main corridor, she'd glanced toward the pilot's deck, and seen Mal on the bridge. Again on an unexamined impulse, she found herself drifting down the corridor toward him.

"Hey," his quiet voice reaching her just as she crossed the threshold. 

It was a night for hushed tones, somehow. "Hey." Allowing the smile to ring quietly through her voice.

"What brings you 'round to this part of the ship?" 

"Just wandering. Not quite ready to settle down."

"I know the feeling." The double-meaning somehow less deliberately ironic than his usual tone.

She settled in the co-pilot's chair and they simply watched the stars slide past them for a long while.

Sometime during that silence, her fingers must have unconsciously hit the release on the shutter, and later when she pulled the memory card, she had been surprised to find the single picture: Mal, mostly profile, with a field of stars behind him, and the lights of Serenity reflected in his eyes. Something almost like peace in his expression.

She thought maybe they had talked during that night, about this and that and nothing of consequence. But her memories were oddly imprecise.

One moment, however, was crystal clear. The moment she had finally stood to leave. Even the soft brush of her sari against the console too loud in the night-filled room. She wasn't even sure why she was leaving, except that staying was somehow precarious.

She felt light in her bones, somehow buoyed by their shared quietness. He had barely glanced at her as she moved toward the door, but she knew he knew exactly where she was. For the briefest of moments, she allowed her hand rest on his shoulder as she left. She might almost have imagined his hand coming up to lightly caress hers - not holding, just a gentle touch across her knuckles - except that even in her imagination, his fingers were never that warm. The sudden twist in her heart might have been nothing at all.

She had thought it was some kind of beginning. But three days later, Nandi had called, and in the days that followed, she had been forced to recognize that feeling in her heart for what it was. And there are only so many ways a companion can lie to herself. 

So she had been forced to leave. _Forced by whom?_ asked a treacherous voice in her mind, but she brushed it aside.

She realized she had been wandering aimlessly about the training house grounds, and it was now much later than she had intended. Turning to walk back to her quarters, she heard the voices of some of the girls in the garden. She found herself turning toward the voices, wanting perhaps to reassure herself that Sheydra was mistaken about the girls' speculations about her time on Serenity.

Lilah's voice, so distinct with her slightly Border-tinged accent that she tried so desperately to mask in all the voice lessons, "...she must have seen so much. I mean she was out there forever." 

With a wry grin, Inara wondered exactly how old Lilah thought she was. She continued moving toward the girls, beginning to see flashes of the colorful robes between the rows of hedges. 

"I heard that she helped the Captain and his crew rob a bank."

"No! A Companion would never...

"Shut up! She's way too refined. Mistress Inara would never be involved with something so sordid. I bet she simply cleaned up any wounds he got and then....comforted him. I've seen the look in her eye when you ask her about what it was like out there. She won't really ever answer your questions, just goes all  
quiet, but you can see that look in her eyes. You know she misses him."

For the second time that night she found herself off guard. She was brought up short. Her sudden stop jolting a pebble loose on the path, and somehow that tiny sound alerted the girls that someone was there.

She turned and made her way back to her rooms. She spent a long time meditating on the quality of silence that night.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
 ** _Largo_**  
Post Serenity

Too many losses. Too many voices stilled. As so often seemed to be the case with Serenity, their victory was Pyrrhic at best. 

Standing in the desert, looking at the memorials for Shepherd Book, and Mr. Universe, and Wash - and gods that still hurt in ways she had no name for - she couldn't for the life of her remember a single song. It seemed like there should be music, or that maybe there would never be music again. 

Zoe's eerie stillness felt so wrong, but Inara thought that dirges and Wash were things that didn't belong together so it was hard to know what should break that silence.

This was the third time she had stood beside a grave or body of someone dear to this crew, these people who had come to mean more to her than she ever could have imagined. But there was nothing of a charm about it.

Walking back to the ship, she found herself alongside Mal, their steps unconsciously synchronyzing, finding a common solemn rhythm. She let herself drift a little closer to him, feeling the chill of the desert night settling on her skin, and a deeper chill within her soul. Their arms brushed lightly as they walked, fingers just brushing past each other. 

It seemed much further back to the ship than when they had walked out here. It was so still out here, barely even a wind to stir her cloak. Just the soft, almost inaudible shift-crunch of the sand under their feet. 

Their fingers brushed again, and then she felt his calloused, scratched hand taking hers, lacing their fingers, his palm startlingly warm against her own. She was surprised to realize that she was unsurprised. 

At the cargo bay entrance, his fingers tightened around hers for a moment, and then let go. Her palm tingled with the memory of warmth all the back to her shuttle.

 

After Serenity launched again, they flew for a long time. The Operative had provisioned them well-enough that they wouldn't need to set down in a port of call for several weeks. And, the quiet of space seemed soothing to all of them. There were still repairs to be made; it gave them purpose without too much thinking.

Late one night, Inara found herself approaching the bridge. A few steps from the door, River slipped ghost-shadow past her, giving her a shy smile, as they passed. 

The clarity in the girl's eyes still a welcome surprise.

Once again, Inara settled silently into the co-pilot's chair. She found she was thinking of nothing at all.

"She's my ship. But it still feels wrong for me to be in this seat." His quiet voice barely audible above the hum of the air processors.

"I miss them, too." It didn't feel like anything else needed to be said.

A thousand more pinpoints of light flashed by them.

"When is your next ass..." She stopped him. It was important that nothing break this moment of quiet harmony. 

"I don't know. I'm not worrying about that right now."

"Ah." She felt rather than saw an infinitesimal relaxing of his shoulders.

She breathed out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding, as six suns and countless moons rose and set in the window. Her mind drifted and wheeled in the dark between the notes of light.

He was so quiet that he was crouching beside her before she was aware he had moved. His fingers - so warm - were gentle as he picked up her hand. With his free hand, he lightly stroked over the back of her fingers, and then turned her hand over to trace a random trail down her palm. She couldn't move as he bent his head and placed a kiss in the center of her hand. No words, no breath, no thought.

He straightened, his eyes black, but open. "I've set our course into the autopilot - she'll fly okay on her own for a while. Our destination is still a ways ahead."

Then he left, his footsteps in perfect counter-rhythm to Serenity's engines.

She watched the stars until they blurred into shiny streaks of flame. Somewhere in the silence she heard a new theme begin. Something in a major key. 

 

END


End file.
